The Parable of the Balloons
by berenwasteland
Summary: "A PG-13 Dr. Suess poem." Updated (I took the opportunity to improve a couple of the rhymes). Rated PG-13 for thinly concealed sarcasm.


"The Parable of the Balloons"

In the faraway land of Smarmyville,

A distant locale placed high on a hill,

There lived happy Smarmies in simple abandon

For they never worried about disasters at random,

But any problem that came they imagined away

Or put off thinking it over to some other day.

When the weather was cold they imagined it hot,

When the sky started raining they imagined 'twas not.

When someone was poor they imagined him rich

When someone sang badly they'd pretend he had pitch.

And all of them, all, though you may think them loons,

They all of them, all, adored having balloons.

They had ones that were big, and ones that were small,

And ones that were short, and ones that were tall,

And ones that would float, and ones that would fall,

And ones they imagined, which weren't there at all.

The balloons they loved in all shapes and sizes

But they had to be happy balloons, they decided,

And so to make happy balloons they discovered,

They had to make all their balloons brightly coloured.

So green, orange and yellow, blue, pink and red,

They made brightly coloured balloons, and they said,

"These balloons are quite meaningful -- even though

we don't quite know how, we'll pretend that it's so."

So they all found great meaning in the air-filled balloons,

And they drank their cream sodas and watched their cartoons,

And they lived in that place, on their trite little hill,

And never dreamed there were things beyond Smarmyville.

Then one day some Haters from Snobville came on the scene

And they saw the balloons and it made them feel mean

For they hated things of meaningless tripe

Like balloons, or happiness, or goldfish, or life.

What they liked to think about mainly was this:

Things they thought sucked big-time. And they had a long list.

Why, this list was so long, it could've easily reached

From the mid-west of Kansas to Iraq's middle east.

And it may sound funny, but the things they found dumb,

Like merriment, logic, or Bazooka Joe gum,

Could all have been found on their Things-That-Suck list

So they thought of them often, but only to diss.

"Those Balloons!" they all muttered, "They're no good! They're bad!

Oh what shall we do to stop this whole fad?"

So they plotted, and planned, and they plotted some more,

Till they concocted a plan that they all could adore.

"We'll blow up some balloons, some great rubber bubbles,

And we'll paint them all horrible, bad, nasty colours!

The ugliness will surely be noticed by the Smarmies,

and so they'll be forced to wage war with our armies!"

For you see, war was one thing that was not on their list:

For they loved getting bloody, and they loved getting pissed.

So they blew them up big and they painted them crappy,

And they set out to make sure the Smarmies didn't stay happy.

They arrived with their balloons and set them up in the town,

And the Smarmies, they saw them and started to frown.

"But we'll just pretend," said each Smarmy to another,

"That we don't mind those balloons; that we like all those colours."

But try as they might to like plaid and green/grey

The colours they hated would not go away.

"Oh what shall we do?" said the Smarmies in fright.

"We don't like the colours, but we're too weak to fight."

So they plotted and planned, and plotted a lot

And decided the ugly balloons should be popped.

So into the town they went, armed with needles and pins,

And the Haters they saw them, and laughed at them then.

"Our balloons," they said. "Are as strong as iron!

They'll never be popped! So don't bother tryin'!"

But the Haters' balloons were made of rubber and air,

And with pins the Smarmies were quite well prepared.

They popped the balloons with all of their might.

"Why," said the Haters. "Who gave them the right?

If they pop our balloons, we'll pop theirs too!"

And the Haters agreed 'twas the thing they should do,

So they too went through town and they burst all the bubbles,

Till the town was completely submerged in the rubble.

And there, under the ruin of all the balloons,

Were trapped all of the balloon-popping buffoons.

And the Smarmies and Haters alike suffocated

There with the enemies they'd so long berated.

If only they'd known what by now you must know

That is, popping balloons is not the way you should go.

You might make your point, but no one will hear

Except those whose ideas to yours closely adhere.

And then you can laugh, in your smug little clique

"Har har, boy those idiots' skulls are sure thick!

I'm so glad we're not like them, we're so smart instead!

Those Others, you know, aren't quite right in the head!"

It's easy to mock things you don't understand

Especially when all of your friends lend a hand.

But the people you're mocking have thought it out, too

And though you may think you're right they may start to mock you.

So keep this in mind, from the near to the far:

Not everyone knows just how stupid they are.


End file.
